Sonic Pens, Telescopes, & Mistletoe Woes
by Sally Scotte
Summary: The Doctor has one theory about why Donna doesn't like Christmas, and decides to see if he can change her mind. No, this is not a ship fic, but you're welcome to read it that way if you like.


A/N: Yes, I know it's a bit after Christmas. Sorry. I posted this on LJ a few days back but am just getting around to updating things on here. Enjoy! Oh, and review if you like, but no pressure. :)

"So, Donna, what did you get me for Christmas?"

"Nothing," she replied shortly. "You're an alien with a time machine. If you want anything you just have to either go and fetch it while it's being made or flash your psychic paper and they hand it over." She rolled her eyes when she saw him pouting. "Fine, you caught me. It's back on the TARDIS. You can have it if -and only if- you survive the rest of the evening with my mum."

"Oh, really? Then that means I have to get you something. That could cause a problem." She looked at him incredulously and he winked. "Kidding, Donna." He pulled a tiny oblong box out of his pocket, then shoved it back in before she had a chance to get a good look at it. "Patience," he teased as they walked toward Donna's house.

"I can not believe you did that for my granddad!"

The Doctor grinned and remembered the look on Wilf's face when he noticed the new pieces he'd bought for his telescope, which would allow him to see almost anywhere in space. "Not a problem, Donna," he assured her. "Remember, time travelling alien? And besides," he added with a laugh, "it's nice to have a companion whose entire family doesn't hate me."

They walked by two young people standing under a mistletoe in a nearby intersection. He couldn't help but notice that Donna quickened her pace as the couple kissed.

"What is it, Donna?" he teased. "Don't you fancy a bit of romance every once in a while?"

"Hardly." Donna turned around and rolled her eyes at him. "What they do is their business. Besides, I hate Christmas, remember? Especially mistletoe."

The Doctor watched her stalk away, realizing what was the matter. He told her he'd join her in a few minutes, and headed for a nearby shop.

An hour later, he returned to the TARDIS carrying a small paper bag. "Sorry I'm late, Donna. I-" He entered the console room to find Donna fast asleep in the jump seat; she'd obviously gotten bored waiting for him. "Stay there," he muttered _-like she's going anywhere-_ and scurried off down the hall.

"All right, Spaceman, what's the big idea?"

"Just stay right there, Donna," he instructed, and she reluctantly agreed, shooting him a dirty look.

"I have a theory," he told her, "and I want to see if I'm right."

"Fine. Just get on with it. I want to have a cup of tea so I can get to bed and forget this bloody holiday ever existed."

He smiled. "Okay, so we've established you don't like Christmas."

"Well, duh," she deadpanned.

"But why would that be?" he said thoughtfully, putting a finger to his chin. "Could it be the cold? The snow? No, never snows in London -at least proper snow- and you loved the Oodsphere, so that's not it."

She tapped her foot on the floor.

"Getting there," he assured her, sensing her impatience. "The gifts? No," he teased, "something tells me you like that bit." He shouted loudly, making Donna jump. "I know!"

"Well, get on with it then," she muttered, grinning sarcastically.

He grinned broadly. "Well, you seemed pretty unhappy about those two people kissing, and it got me to thinking. Why would a person hate mistletoe? I thought it might be allergies, but that doesn't make any sense, and then I figured it out." The smile slowly slid off her face, and he knew he was right. "No one ever kissed you under the mistletoe, did they?"

Donna slowly nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I had a few boyfriends that didn't last until Christmas, but the ones that did all seemed to avoid it like the plague." She scoffed. "And I don't think they were allergic either. When they decorated the office for Christmas Lance used to go all the way around the building just to avoid having to walk under the mistletoe with me." She sighed sadly. "A bloody wonder that didn't tip me off."

"Yeah," he agreed quietly, then snapped back to attention when she glared at him. "I mean, yeah, too bad about that. The point is....I still haven't proven my theory."

"And again," she sighed, "get on with it! I swear, Doctor, you talk so much I'm surprised that-"

He stepped up to Donna and kissed her, cutting off the rest of her retort. For a moment she stood there in shock, then Donna retreated so fast she fell to the floor.

When she looked up she saw mistletoe hanging from the archway. "You did _not_ just do that."

The Doctor grinned cheekily and offered her a hand up. "How do you like mistletoe now?"

"You're kidding me," she muttered. He was still smiling broadly, obviously feeling proud of himself. "What's the big idea, Spaceman?"

"Well," he admitted, "I figured if you actually got a kiss under mistletoe you might like it a bit more." His grin widened again but he knew what she was thinking. "Right here's a good place, by the way," he told her, indicating his left jawline, and she slapped him so hard the spot would probably be bright red for weeks. "Good shot," he commented drily.

"You ever pull a stunt like that again and you'll end up taking an express trip to the nearest Martian hospital," she warned him harshly, though he thought he saw a smile playing on her lips.

"Deal. But I just wanted you to know, Donna," he told her sincerely, "I don't care what Lance told you, or anyone else for that matter." He carefully took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. "You really are worth it, you know."

She shook her head and pulled her hand from his, storming out of the room.

Donna returned after a while, shoving a mug of tea in his hands -two sugars, just like he liked it, which was a good sign that she at least wasn't going to ask to be taken home right away- and giving him a reluctant 'good night'. Just as quickly she turned to leave again.

As she reached the archway she absently looked up, then turned to face him. "Doctor?"

"Yes, Donna?"

"Thanks. For....you know, trying to make me feel better."

"Any time, Donna," he told her. "But if I ever do it again....?"

"Martian. Hospital. Major. Surgery. I'll leave the rest up to your overactive imagination." She rolled her eyes and finally smiled at him. "And merry Christmas, Spaceman."

"You too, Donna," he said with a genuine smile. She grinned back and headed off to her room.

When he woke up the next morning there was a note from Donna by his bed.

_Doctor:_

_I went to spend a couple hours with Gramps. I figured he could use some help putting together the rest of that telescope you got him (With my new purple sonic pen -perfect for a supertemp like me!- I'm pretty sure I can handle it. You are so getting a hug for that later, Spaceman, just so you know!) but I'll be back around lunchtime. I hope you like your present; I saw it a couple months ago at that big intergalactic mall you took me to and I had to get it because....well, you'll understand. Anyway, don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone. See you later!_

_Love,_

_Donna_

_P.S. Sorry about getting so angry last night. It really was nice of you to try to cheer me up. But the bit about the Martian hospital still stands, so get rid of that mistletoe before I get back._

He opened the envelope sitting by the letter and looked at what was inside. "No....way," he managed. "I couldn't even get these _with_ the psychic paper!" Looking back down at the note, he saw the even smaller postscript Donna had added.

_P.P.S. About your present. Putting my feminine wiles to good use. Apparently you're not the only one who thinks I'm amazing. Happy (slightly late) Christmas, Spaceman._

He stuffed the tickets back in the envelope, already dreaming of how much he'd enjoy an exploration trip to the literal Banana Republic, and made his way to the control room to get rid of that mistletoe before Donna came back and made good on her threat.


End file.
